Edith Piaf - La Foule

reminded

I drive every morning past the woods.  The trees are sirens but I go on.  Clouds and light make me wish for canvas and paint and some idea of what I might do with them but then there are plans for this day.  I have mine and it has its own.

In the end it is not a plan, it's only squash, fennel, onions, and the one certainty -- some kind of dough, which takes a very long hour.  We sit and wait (Edith Piaf) and then I am moved in such a way that things seem to come together on their own accord and I am reminded that there are a hundred ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

cloud machine

If you've ever wanted one:

Lili Kraus plays Bartok

the poets

...wringing their sweet souls.

if

Und wenn dich das Irdische vergaß, zu der stillen Erde sag: Ich rinne. Zu dem raschen Wasser sprich: Ich bin.

-Rainer Maria Rilke

A while ago I read Augusten Burrough's memoir, Running with Scissors.  The most significant impression I took from it was the practice of "bible dipping" which essentially goes something like this:  If you are looking for an answer to a particular question, open the bible to a random page and without looking, place your finger on the page. Wherever your finger points, there is the answer.  

I've adopted the practice, adapted really -- not for the purpose of solving particular crises but rather as a preferred means for divining relief from chronic restlessness.  I'm open to all messages so I am not of a mind to look exclusively within the bible.  I will just as easily try my luck with any of the books in a given library.  I just allow my gaze to come to rest, pull the book from the shelf and open.  The words are always there.  

sunday morning

I am here as they are opening the gates, just in time to catch the last of the moon and to see the horizontal sheets of light cast by the sun as it rises through waves of clouds.  In time to be reborn, yet again, in the rain and to give thanks for the sweet smell it releases from the pines.